Seraka pays little attention to Rokan's exchange with Belor, her focus instead on this random pretty boy fawning over Sonya. Seraka throws up her arms in a "what the hell" gesture.
"Hey, buddy! I was at least as magnificent!"
Seraka scoffs softly as he walks away.
"Pfft...men."
Once he's out of earshot, she elbows Sonya in the shoulder then leans in, giving a half-hearted effort to whisper.
"Guy's clearly got a thing for ya. Got that whole 'nice guy' thing going. Best watch out for him. Those guys'll turn on you in a second."
She pats Sonya on the back and winks.
"We gotta stick out for each other, yeah?"
With inconvenient civilians out of the way, the group hurries on to the gate in Belor's wake. Given the festival, the posted guard had been light: nobody had expected a score of goblins attacking during broad daylight, of all things. Belor's face is grim when a scruffy youth wearing ill-fitting guard armor, clutching a still-bleeding arm, reports.
"I don't know how they g-got in, sir," the youth stammers, wide-eyed. "It was just me an' old Marai, and we'd shut the gates cuz there hadn't been anyone down the road in a bit-- and out of nowhere, there was three gobbos scramblin' up the inside of the palisade wall at us! And at least half a dozen runnin' on the ground I could see! Th-they--" he swallows painfully, and continues, "--they k-killed Marai, sir-- I... managed to kill one, but they were already runnin' into the town."
Belor's face might be carved from granite. "And wagons coming into town? Did you check those?"
The teenager blinks. "Wagons, sir? But... there must have been dozens, with-- supplies for the festival, and all the out-of-towners, we... I mean, the Valdemars had wagons comin' in, the Scarnettis, the Kaijitsus..."
Belor growls, and one of the guards with him sighs, rubbing at her face. "We've never checked bloody wagons for goblins before, Belor-- don't blame Sully here for that. Poor Marai..."
The sheriff paces a few steps, deep frustration clear on his face. "I want every supply wagon in town accounted for, visitors and residents alike! If they got in here inside someone's wagon, I want to know whose!"
There's a scatter of activity, and the guards start to split off in pairs. Belor rubs a hand over his face before walking the remaining short distance to the palisade wall, climbing up the ladder into the guard 'tower' (really just an enclosed platform at the top of the wooden wall) and retrieving the body of Marai, an old guardswoman, himself. He shakes his head at any offers of help, making it back to ground with her body over one shoulder.
Belor stands a moment after laying Marai's body carefully down on a stretch of clean earth, his eyes roaming the buildings of Sandpoint, before his gaze settles on the little group as well, as if just remembering they are there. He looks at Rokan, and Seraka, then away. In rather halting Shoanti, he says, "You say the Shriikirri call on me. This town calls on me also. It has the stronger claim. Why are you here?"
As Belor addresses Rokan, you see townspeople start to emerge from their homes, as militia members knock on doors to let folk know that the streets have been cleared of immediate threats. The woman who was selling the curried salmon appears, wiping blood from what looks like a fish cleaver, looking with interest over towards the little group.
"Hah, well maybe he's got a thing for women getting attacked by goblins, I was much better at that than you." Sonya jokes, before her smile fades briefly. Hopefully that is not the case. He already managed to follow me all the way from Magnimar.
"Besides, I doubt the Sheriff is going to let history repeat itself."
Sonya smiles. "Right."
...
"One of the goblins from the square is tied up outside the church - maybe they can identify which wagons they snuck into."
She quiets when Belor retrieves Marai's body and waits while Belor and the two Shoanti speak back and forth in Shoanti, shifting from foot to foot. Even though she didn't speak the language, the tension between the three was not difficult to follow.
”I am Rokan Hundred-Feathers,” answers Rokan with a formal tone. He eyes the body of the dead guardswoman, his tone softening slightly, ”The Shriikirri eldest have sent a warning out to all the Quah’s. Something is stirring in the highlands. Something that threatens all the Quah’s.”
He gives the town around him a look, ”A threat to part of our lands is a threat to it all. The elders .. ask for your aid. For Sandpoint’s aid to find what threatens us all." He pauses, then finishes with particular emphasis on the final few words, "Your people need you.”
Seraka's eye follows Rokan and Belor. She folds her arms and scowls, but says nothing for the moment. Instead, she focuses her attention on her current conversation.
"Ain't talkin' about you, E. You're just a nice guy. He's...too nice. Guys like that, they think you owe them something. I've seen how they talk when they think no women are around."
She flares her nostrils, her grip tightening on her bardiche. A sharp growl slips out of her throat.
"I had to sit through it so many times. And--"
She slams her jaw shut, choming down whatever she was going to say. She finally shrugs.
"Nevermind. Point is, I don't like him."
At Sonya's words that they managed to restrain one of the goblins, Belor gives her a brief acknowledging nod, approving even, though his eyes remain on Rokan. He stands with his arms crossed and chin lowered, listening to the Shoanti warrior speak. He is silent for several beats once Rokan has finished his earnest if stoic words.
In his rusty Shoanti, he answers:
"And I am Belor Hemlock-- once Belor Viskalai. I have given myself a name in the style of this town-- because this place is my place, and these people are my people." He nods with his chin around at the town of Sandpoint, and his mouth flattens into a bitter line. "If it's a man of the Shriikirri you want, go talk to my brother."
Belor pauses, then sighs, his shoulders slumping. He continues speaking, in the common tongue now. "...Do not think I am not thankful for your aid today. All of you. If there is a threat to all the land, then Sandpoint is grateful for a warning, and... as sheriff of Sandpoint... I am grateful also. I would certainly rather have the tribes and quahs as allies rather than foes. But I do not know what aid I can offer your people," there is a slight but noticeable emphasis on 'your,' "--when, as you see, we have now a trouble of our own. Our garrison is but a score of full-time guards, and perhaps another score of bakers and fishermen who pull out rusty weapons from beneath their beds when there is a threat. Sandpoint is not large-- and I am not its chief, to make alliances or to pledge aid. What exactly is this threat--"
Belor pauses, looking around the street, where curious townsfolk are beginning to come closer at the odd sight of Rokan, Seraka, E, and Sonya, with Belor and the dead guardswoman. Belor clears his his throat.
"If you can wait a few hours, I will speak with you privately. For now I must see how many other than Marai died today. And I must see that goblin you captured," he adds on grimly.
***
The salmon-curry woman sidles up during all this heavy talking, a crooked grin on her face, and taps Seraka, E, and Sonya on their respective shoulders.
"I saw some of the fighting you all did," she stage-whispers. "Impressive! I know as a Valdemar you don't exactly need a place to stay, but the rest of you... your gold's no good at the Rusty Dragon, at least not tonight. The name's Ameiko Kaijtsu, and I think you'll fit right in in my taproom."
Rokan frowns, well … frowns further, at Belor’s broken Shoanti, but he listens attentively. Despite a reserved nature, his emotions are plain on his face. Frustration, relief, curiosity, determination, and a few others. He seems about to respond when Belor switches to Taldan, including everyone present in the conversation.
Rokan’s impatience is obvious, but to his credit, the small Shoanti restrains himself. He looks at gathering locals, then down at the dead guardswoman, then nods.
”Later, then.” His voice is firm, ”But not too much later.”
When the salmon-maker appears, Rokan watches impassively. If she greets Rokan, he is neutral but not rude ... her salmon was delicious. At the mention of Valdemar—a local thing unknown to Rokan—he gives the two women a curious glance, but remains silent, content to let the others enjoy their brief celebrity. They’ earned it.
While Sheriff Belor speaks to the whole group, Sonya worries with a small bronze key that hangs on a thin chain around her neck. She had come to Sandpoint expecting she would be using business savvy more than combat training - it sounded as if something larger might be happening. And with a few fewer guards than there were just earlier today.
A tap on the shoulder brings her out of her thinking, tucking the small key back away under her armor as she turns to come eye to eye with Ameiko.
"Actually... a room in town would be really helpful - there's a lot of people I'd like to check in on to make sure they're alright. It'd beat making the long walk, and I'm sure the town could use a few extra hands."
She turns to E, "Plus, I still owe you a tour to the lighthouse, though that might need to be delayed a bit."
|
"A wonderful gift, and you have my gratitude! I will gladly accept!" E says, enthusiastically appreciative of Ameiko's offering of rooms.
E looks back at Sonya, "Understandable! But I'm glad we can work out an arrangement after all this excitement. A bathhouse seems like a much more attractive idea now, after we make sure this goblin event has finished."
Seraka waits until Belor finishes talking, resting her bardiche across her shoulders and draping her arms over it. After he leaves, she leans in to speak with Rokan.
"We can speak with his brother, and maybe we can clear up whatever little mess this town is in quick. Probably just gotta go kill a buncha goblins real quick. Free him up for a bit, show him we respect his whole shtick here."
Seraka finds herself caught off-guard by the tap on the back and swivels instinctively, on guard for an attack. When instead presented with the cute Ameiko, she cannot repress a grin. Her pose relaxes and she tilts her hips, a pose she knows shows off her figure.
"Well aren't you just an adorable little woman. I think I could fit in well in anything you've got."
She tries to pass off turning away to hide a grimace at her embarassing forwardness as simply twisting and stretching her neck and back.
To Rokan, Belor says: "This evening, then. If you can wait that long." Without a further word, the gruff fellow picks up the dead guardswoman's corpse and starts towards the temple.
Ameiko leans back against a low wall, arms crossed, grinning as the offer of her room is accepted by several-- though Seraka's words make her blink and then blush, a bright red that she tries to cover with a coughing fit.
"Uhm-- so, yes. It's that building right over there, and we can get some water heating for bath if you like. The closest Sandpoint has to a public bathhouse is probably the House of Blue Stones," she says, rubbing at her jaw. "What's all your names, anyway?"
For any who are taking Ameiko up on the offer of the room, she is more than willing to lead over to the Rusty Dragon. In the taproom, an older halfling woman is bustling about in the taproom, trying to right tables after the chaos of the day. The source of the Rusty Dragon's name is clear enough: a statue of a dragon, forged together from what looks like horseshoes and other scrap metal, hangs behind the bar. Ameiko unhooks brass keys from behind the counter, passing them out as needed. "Rooms are just upstairs!"
The town is still reeling from the unexpected goblin attack. As the streets are pronounced clear by the guards, they fill again with townspeople hurriedly trying to check on all their relatives and loved ones-- mothers hunting children who got separated in the rush from the square, and so forth. All in all, the town suffered four deaths including Marai the guardswoman, this rumor delivered by the urchin E had interacted with earlier before the child dashes off again.
Rokan shrugs up at the taller Shoanti, ”Maybe. We weren’t tasked to speak to his brother, though.” Despite his words, his tone indicates the smaller Shoanti thinks it’s a good idea.
As the local tavern-keep makes her offer–or, more specifically, when Seraka goes all swagger-y in response—Rokan shakes his head and speaks up at her in their shared tongue.
”You chase women harder than most young warriors i’ve seen who have been on the trail too long. Do you need to prove yourself superior to men even in this?”
_____
As Belor leaves, Rokan frowns after him, seeming to make up his mind about something. As he begins to follow the local sheriff, he looks back at Seraka and the little impromptu fighting band. ”He’ll be able to get back with us quicker if a decent tracker—not one of these city-blinded locals, no offense Sonya—helps him find where the goblins came from.”
As he walks away, he looks back at the group and the tavern-keep, to whom he nods. "I will be back in a few hours. I'll meet you at the Rusty Dragon."
Another person that already knew Sonya's name, but at least this time she was on equal footing - Sonya had heard her own fair share of gossip about Ameiko and her family. Usually not one for idle gossip or rumors, the story she had heard was interesting enough to break her rule.
"Sonya Valdemar, it's nice to meet you officially."
But not quite yet - there was always work to do.
Sonya helps the townsfolk she sees as best she can on who she saw and where they were last, and even asks a few questions of her own, mentally noting anything that might be helpful for figuring out the town's newfound mystery.
But as the day winds down, she runs out of questions and answers, and finally allows herself to relax. She puts her armor and weapons back upstairs and changes - a bit of magic removes some of the stains and smells from battle, but does nothing for sore muscles and bruises. The mention of a bathhouse trip perks her back up just a bit before inevitable fatigue sets back in.
She returns to the inn's bar and tries to catch Ameiko's attention.
"You said earlier you saw our fighting - it looks like you handled some yourself as well. I didn't think there was much chance in Sandpoint to practice combat skills like that. I barely even had a chance back in Magnimar with family needing things done so frequently."
|
|
"I go by E, it's easier that way." the samsaran responds delighted by the idea of a bath.
As Rokan walks away from the group, he turns to Seraka and speaks in Shoanti "Glory goes to the bold!"
He gladly hands over five copper to the urchin for the information
Accepting a key, he quickly stows his gear and descends into the common area wearing just a large towel, carrying down his mug, a handful of coin and a pile of dirty clothes he will gladly pay for someone to carefully mend and clean by hand.
"Ahhh! Now a chance for a well-earned relaxing bath! Barkeep! Fill my mug with whatever's the house favorite!"
Seraka clenches her jaw as she sees how unsettled she's made Ameiko. Gonna need to apologize to her away from the others. She does little more than prickle slightly at Rokan's jab.
"Just...making up for lost time."
She turns and heads towards the stairs, brooding.
"Didn't exactly get to enjoy being young."
She flinches at E's attempt at levity, not wanting to celebrate her fumbling advances.
Rokan
It doesn't take much of your wilderness training to realize that basically.... the goblins used the same road you traveled just a few hours ago, more or less. If the words of the young guardsman are accurate, some goblins managed to get inside the town's wall without being noticed-- inside the wagons seems the likeliest possibility for how they managed that. Those goblins then took out the guards and opened the gate for the rest of them.
Accordingly, the area in front of the gate has dozens and dozens of goblin footprints. The woods begin just a few dozen feet from the walls in places and could easily have provided cover for goblins traveling parallel to the road-- quick investigation confirms this, as the matted pine needles beneath the trees show heavy foot traffic recently.
Following them outward, they do parallel the Lost Coast Road as it heads east from Sandpoint. Rokan knows that the road will keep leading more or less along the coast and pass through half a dozen small forests that are supposedly filthy with bickering goblin tribes. Tracking the exact origin of these particular goblins may become a bit like looking for a fish in an ocean... but he can try.
***
Within the Rusty Dragon
Ameiko smiles warm and wry at Sonya's words as she draws a mug of dark beer from a keg behind the bar. The taproom is fairly busy-- from snatches Sonya can overhear, many of the visitors to town who were present for the festival are now wanting to return to their homes as quickly as possible, but are equally unwilling to risk the roads if large bands of goblins are running around on the road.
"Thanks," Ameiko says as she pushes the mug off to the halfling waitress who scurries to deliver it to a table. "I think I've gotten a little rusty... and I wish I'd had all my proper kit with me, but then, I wasn't expecting goblins! None of us were."
She sobers up a little. "Let's hope that there's no need for more 'combat practice' anytime soon. I'm glad you're here though-- the town can always use some more people with sense and guts running things, and even if you're just helping out right now, maybe long-term you'll decide to stay here in Sandpoint rather than going back to the big city?"
She looks up from her discussion with Sonya when E makes his towel-garbed entrance down into the common room -- and laughs. "Er, I think we can loan you a tunic if you need an extra one, 'E,' " Ameiko calls, as various heads inside the taproom turn to squint at the sight of the slightly-built blue-skinned chap who is swanning about in just a towel.
It's a busy afternoon, but ultimately Seraka's able to steal a brief moment by the bar in which Ameiko seems busy with nothing else. The Tien woman looks up with a blink as Seraka's shadow falls over the bar then offers a hesitant smile. "Anything you need?"
Rokan follows the tracks until he gets a general sense for their origin. The locals should know more about where they lead beyond that. Plus, wandering around unknown forests in the direction of unknown numbers of hostile goblin warriors seems … foolish.
Rokan returns to the walls surrounding Sandpoint, where he revisits the goblin tracks. This time he tries to note if there are any tracks leaving, looking for any clues that might suggest what the little buggers came for.
Sonya idly polishes the table with a thumb. "So you did do a bit of adventuring then? I don't usually pay attention to gossip, but I thought it was a bit too much of a coincidence. I thought I'd be the only daughter of a merchant family to run off to follow a different path." She looks up from the table and gives a small hopeful smile.
"I think I will stay - Sandpoint needs me more than Magnimar does, especially after today."
|
|
"Nonsense! I wouldn't want to get your tunic wet. That's the job of a towel. Now where is this bath I hear of?"
Stopping the halfling about her way, he bends down to whisper, "I don't want to interrupt your boss's conversation with my large and admiring friend there. Could you possibly fill up my tankard unnoticed?" he asks, dropping a silver piece into her apron pocket.
Seraka glances about, trying to make sure nobody is watching. She bites her lip and looks averts her eyes, gazing at the bar counter. She scratches the back of her head as a small self-comforting gesture as she leans onto the bar.
"Hey...so, uh, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I say things without thinking sometimes. I didn't mean to upset you. Just thought you're cute. I mean, I still think that, but--"
She growls at how easily she has gotten flustered.
"Nevermind that. Just...sorry."
The old halfling woman takes the coin and squints at E in his dishabille. She purses her lips. "The bath is just down the hall, the water should be good and hot. But put on something when you come out, heavens, or you're likely to catch cold. I'll get you your drink once you're properly dressed for it," she sniffs.
Ameiko grins conspiratorially at Sonya's question. "Sure, I've spent a few nights sleeping on forest floors and stabbing at goblins," she says cheerfully. "Did it to tweak my father's nose as much as anything, I suppose. But, well..."
The Tien woman shrugs. "It's not an easy life. Especially if you lose folk on the road. I'd made some decent gold at it, enough to get this place and fix it up without having to ask my father for any money. Maybe it's not adventuring, but it beats managing the books at the Kaijitsu Glassworks."
She smiles warmly. "I'm glad you're staying-- anytime you want a drink or a bit of gossip, or just a friendly ear, you're always welcome here."
Ameiko fiddles with the dishrag, polishing the bar's gleaming top a little more. "Um, well, thank you for the apology," she says with a throat clearing. "And the compliment. I'm not exactly your type, I don't think, but I hope you find someone who is?"
As soon as the trees begin to press more closely and more thickly around the road, and the ground beneath the trees begins to show more signs of goblin feet than merely the original trail he was following, Rokan turns back. As he retraces the path to Sandpoint, his sharp eyes scan the pine-needle carpet with the acuity of a hawk- searching, searching.
He finds no clues that any particular booty was taken from Sandpoint-- but his hunch is correct, in that there is a small number of footprints leading back out again, far fewer than the number that went into the city. Perhaps no fewer than half-a-dozen goblins, moving together in a tight knot. Their trail disappears into the trees and is soon lost amid the greater disturbed soil of the initial goblin passage, but it seemed for the short distance that he could follow it to proceed back in the same general direction from which the goblin horde must have originally come.
And even more interesting-- noted as he is ready to resign himself to having seen everything there is to see-- is that in amid this small set of tracks, caught at just the right place in a muddy patch of soil, he sees the print of a foot-- human-sized, adult, shod. It is headed away from Sandpoint, but though Rokan scours the short section of earth on which he can clearly see the trail of the half-dozen exiting goblins, he sees no sign of that footprint repeating. A hostage? Perhaps carried, if so... or perhaps merely someone light of tread, and no hostage at all.
Rokan stands frowning down at the foot print for a while, trying futilely to divine what means. Pragmatism exerts itself. He gives the surrounding trees one more accusatory look—as if he holds them accountable for keeping the secret—then stalks back into Sandpoint, finding his way directly to Belor.
When he finds the man, he opens bluntly. ”Did you send a tracker outside the walls after the attack?” Regardless of the sheriff’s answer, Rokan gives a full report of his scouting. He is explicit to detail the numbers and paths that seem to have been taken on the goblins’ approach, the seeming-fewer numbers of their withdrawal, the lack of evidence that they took anything larger than what they could carry with them, and any specifics he can about the one human-sized footprint.
”So if that wasn’t a tracker, do you have anyone missing?”
”We will get to the bottom of this, so Belor can put his attention on the Shriikirri request. I won’t be put off by this attack.”
Sonya smiles back and leans back to relax a bit, chatting with a few of the inn patrons to hopefully put them at ease a bit at the prospect of being stuck in Sandpoint a bit longer.
Seraka manages to ease her grimace into an embarassed smile.
"Heh. Thanks. I appreciate you understanding."
She leans over the bar and sighs, releasing a chunk of tension.
"Just, uh, don't have a lot of practice at this whole thing."
Belor is at the garrison when Rokan goes searching; he has half a dozen people in the room with him, including the mayor. The garrison guardsmen don't stop Rokan-- or perhaps don't stop him in time, nobody really expecting a Shoanti warrior in full regalia to come striding into the garrison as they are all still reeling from the events of the day.
Belor has a map of the town spread on a table, and a grim look as Rokan's blunt questions. He listens stoically (whilst the mayor and a few others do some brow arching), then trades looks with the others in the room.
"Nobody has been reported missing," Belor says gravely. "The dead, yes, but their bodies are accounted for. Thank you for the information. Let me ask you some more questions about it..."
Hemlock leaves the map and the others, striding with Rokan out the hallway that exits the garrison. He does ask a few questions, learning precisely what Rokan saw, but parts with this:
"I am sheriff here, Rokan Hundredfeathers. It means something to me. Next time-- knock."
***
Ameiko shrugs a little, wiping at a spigot. "Well... I mean as a general rule I think people like to be treated as friends first, and then maybe later as... potentially more than that? No offense, but you're a little, um, intimidating, so if you're-- forward-- it's, erm, that could put people on the wrong foot."
She pauses then shrugs. "Or maybe I'm prudish. Weren't you talking with Savah when you entered the square?"
***
Sometime that evening, as soup is served in the Rusty Dragon's common room and the guests gather to eat and each reiterate and exorcise their own recounting of the day...
One of the inn's guests is none other than Aldern Foxglove, who looks startled but then deeply pleased to see his saviors of earlier in the common room. He quickly makes his way forward (nearly tripping over the old halfling, Bethesda, en route), smiling at Sonya and the others by extension.
"Fortune's placed us under the same roof!" he exclaims. "Please - let me buy you drinks--"
On hearing Ameiko has already extended free drinks to the four, his face falls, but only momentarily. Aldern reaches into his belt pouch and fishes out some coins, doing his best to press them into Sonya's hand.
"Please, I know that mere coin is a shabby way to say thank you for my life-- but if you can find any use for it I'm more than happy for you to have it-- all of you," he says with a hopeful smile around at Rokan too, the one who'd been first on the scene. "Put it wherever you think it will do the most good."
The five coins in Sonya's hand are the shiny silver-white of platinum.
Sonya gives an uneasy smile as Aldern arrives, but calms down a bit when he's a bit more subdued than earlier in the day. She takes the coin and reaches into her own pocket to produce change to split it between the party - though in E's case she will have to hang on to it until he's wearing something again.
She sips her cup of water, and wonders how the shoanti will get along with the nobleman now that he isn't a hindrance to an ongoing fight.
Rokan frowns at the revelation that no one is missing, then raises his eyebrows as he’s ushered out.
"I am sheriff here, Rokan Hundredfeathers. It means something to me. Next time-- knock.”
Rokan’s scowl returns, though it’s tinged with more curiosity than usual. He scans the room, noting the few of Hemlock’s guards and staff that are present.
He looks back into Hemlock’s eyes, responding simply with, ”Understood.” Then, apparently trying to look into Sheriff—at something deeper—he switches to their shared native tongue.
”Elder Haduuk says you can’t understand a person until you know their story. There are those in the Quahs that wonder about you. Why you would choose the people of this town over the people of your birth? Maybe some time I will understand what path lead a Shriikirri to forsake his name for Hemlock?”
Without waiting for an answer, Rokan gives a brief, traditional Shoanti salute—that which is expected from warrior to war leader—then leaves, heading for the Rusty Dragon.
***
Rokan walks into the Rusty Dragon and right into the middle of the exchange between them and the local rich man. He gives a genuine smile, ”I see you haven’t found more goblin knives since we saw you last. This is good. I hate wasted effort.”
At the offered coin, Rokan frowns, shrugs, and pockets it. ”In the Quah’s, I’ve never been given gold simply for putting down a threat to a village. Is this a thing in this city?” He gives Aldern a friendly half-smile, making a point to eye his expensive-looking clothes, ”Or maybe you have such gold you are looking for any way to get rid of it?”
Seraka listens to Ameiko, nodding gravely, until Ameiko says the word. Seraka turns her eyes down and frowns, nodding with a bit more heaviness. It takes several moments for Seraka to make a noise after Ameiko finishes speaking.
"I haven't...exactly..."
She twists her mouth as she tries to find a way to push the words out. They finally come out all at once, under her breath.
"...hadalotafriends."
She sighs out some of her tension, enough for her to gain the prescience to scan the room to make sure nobody is watching her make a fool of herself.
"Only one I had was an Arshean."
Her eyes pop for a moment, then she chortles and smiles to herself.
"Heh. Guess that explains some things."
Belor watches Rokan leave with a pensive expression....
The Shoanti warrior joins the others in the common room in time to catch his share of Aldern's largesse, and to ask his question. Aldern colors a little even at the friendly jibe, and self-consciously touches at his shirt-front (he's changed clothes since the goblin attack, it seems-- to be fair, the other clothes had the blood of his dog on them).
"I... owe you all my life," he says awkwardly. "I don't know how your people repay such debts-- I am a merchant, so I do so in coin.
"If I thought my sword-arm could be of use to such as yourselves, I would offer it, but..." his gaze drops away to the floorboards, "clearly it is not worth terribly much."
Aldern is pensive a moment, then suddenly brightens, looking up again-- mostly at Sonya, but he directs his words to the group. "Though perhaps there is something else I might offer! I will need another hunting dog-- and I'll need to test her out. I plan on trying a spot of boar hunting in the Tickwood in the next few days, before I leave town-- I promise you, I am a better hunter of game than I am a slayer of goblins! I should be happy to provide you all with mounts if you care to join me-- the Tickwood is supposed to have some of the finest game for miles around. I imagine even a Shoanti might find something to hunt there! It is up to you, of course."
***
Throwing little wry glances here and there over at Aldern Foxglove's attempt to display gratitude, Ameiko listens to Seraka then smiles a little, and carefully reaches up to pat the big woman's muscular shoulder. "I'm sure it... will all come together! Perhaps you should ask Savah to share a drink here sometime?"
"I... owe you all my life," he says awkwardly. "I don't know how your people repay such debts-- I am a merchant, so I do so in coin.
"If I thought my sword-arm could be of use to such as yourselves, I would offer it, but..." his gaze drops away to the floorboards, "clearly it is not worth terribly much."
Rokan gives a vague gesture which seems to say ’this is no big thing’. Then he rattles off a Shoanti statement, then translates.
”It means ’A bear is not a horse is not an eagle’. Many men have many different strengths, and this is just how we are made, no?” He pauses, considering Aldern’s way of repaying debts. ”Different Quahs have different ways to repay debt. Some make more sense than others. But all have one thing in common, as you show that you do, too. We honor the debt, and we work to repay it, in whatever form is appropriate.”
He gives Aldern an appraising look, ”You show a bit of promise … for a man from the city.”
At mention of the hunt, Rokan perks up for a moment, then shakes his head in resignation. ”I would be happy to show you how the Shoanti hunt,” he begins with a grin, ”but I am here with a task of urgency. If I can have this task done by tonight, I will not see tomorrow’s sunrise from within these walls.”
He shrugs, then gives a rare, encouraging grin, ”But maybe if I am delayed, with time so spare?”
Giving a frown at what looks like an uncomfortable exchange of Ameiko and Seraka across the room, Rokan turns to Sonya and the little blue man. He forces his tone to levity, ”So, goblin slayers, it seems you are heroes. What will you do now?”
He frowns down at E's towel. "Also, you know you have lost your clothes, yes?"
"We still aren't sure where the goblins came from, or whether there might be more out there. Until we know a bit more, I'm not sure what the next few days will bring," Sonya adds noncommittally before replying to Rokan. She lowers her voice a bit so worried townsfolk don't overhear and worries with the small key around her neck. "I'll be in Sandpoint until the rest of this crisis is solved - we might have fought them back, but if they came once they might come again." She smiles, noting the (unusually) light tone in the Shoanti's speech. "Ah, but I suppose things might be a bit different walking around town now. Same for you three - I'm sure you'll be welcome in Sandpoint for a long time."
”Maybe. I don’t plan to be here much longer, though I’m glad I could help with the goblins.” He keeps his own voice low, ”I actually tracked them back into the forests. There were far fewer tracks that way than when they came for the attack. Hopefully that means we thinned out their fighting numbers enough.”
He looks into her eyes for a moment, weighing, then continues. ”This I’ve only told Belor. There were tracks. Human sized ones.” Rokan quickly details what he found while he was outside the walls scouting. ”Belor says no one from town is missing so far.” He shrugs, not sure what to make of the clue.
"And it wasn't some other goblinoid, like a hobgoblin or something? I figured goblins wouldn't be smart enough to plan an attack like this on their own, but if someone's letting them in to the city, we've got a big problem."
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Kicking his feet up onto the tub's rim, E slides down so that the majority of his torso is submerged. Ahhhhh..... this is exactly what I needed.
Having brought his mug in with him, he carefully tips it from above, letting the ale inside fall the length of his arm into his mouth. Yep.
Letting the tenseness of the day get soothed out by the warm water, he examines the various places on his body that were hurt by the little green menaces and sees no remnants of that ordeal. "Thanks" he says to no one in particular, and turns the mug over again.
"Also, you know you have lost your clothes, yes?"
E chuckles, then puts a finger to his temple, his mug handle cradled by a thumb against his cheek. "I wouldn't say I've lost them. I mean, I don't know where they're at, but I'm fairly certain they're coming back. That doesn't count as lost, yes?"
He sits down at the table with the group, "You really should enjoy the bath. I mean, not that any of you need one, but that because it is particularly enjoyable. Relaxing, time for reflection, dulling the aches."
"My mysterious Shoanti friend," he asks Rokan, "what errand are you on that brings you into town to enjoy it's festivities and then pull you away?"
Between the mud wrestling, the race, the fighting, and the scouting thereafter, Rokan could seriously use a bath. He looks down at his body, scratching at a particularly thick clump of dried mud still clinging to his pants. ”In a bit.”
At the question of his errand, Rokan considers the small blue man—then Sonya—for a moment before opening his mouth. ”I am an apprentice to the shamans of my people. The Shriikirri Quah. You would call us the Eagle Clan, I think. My teacher sent me to recruit Belor’s help, and the help of this town, if possible, against a threat we are only just now discovering up in the northlands.”
He gets a far-off, sobered look, ”We’ve been attacked. More than usual, anyway. And while the Quahs are still trying to determine what the threat is, we’ve already lost a surprising number of people.” He reaches down and touches his pack—or something inside his pack—without thinking, ”Good people.”
He seems to come back to the present, ”As soon as I have completed my errand, I intend to go back north, to repay blood for blood.” He gives a look that includes E, Sonya, and even Seraka across the room. "You are good in a fight. The Shriikirri would welcome your help."
Aldern listens to Rokan's words thoughtfully, then smiles. "Perhaps I can live up to that promise, my friend! And... perhaps by so doing I might impress.... someone."
He bows slightly. "I'm upstairs in room 5, please let me know if any of you wish to come hunting tomorrow. Either way, best of fortune with your own affairs-- may Abadar smile on your whole group as he surely smiles upon miss Valdemar, here."
With that, the rich man retreats up the stairs again.
***
As Rokan lays out his mission to Sonya-- an the others by extension-- the door of the inn opens, revealing the priest from the cathedral-- Father Zantus. He looks around worriedly a moment, then spots your collective presence and beelines over.
"Ah good! The Sheriff said you were likely to be here, I'm glad I caught you all. Do you have a moment's time? It's nothing big-- probably-- but after today I would prefer no more unpleasant surprises, and the sheriff suggested I ask you all..." Zantus begins, hedging around whatever he's actually here to ask about.
Rokan lets the discussion die as Father Zanthus steps over. After a quick look around at the collected group, he shrugs and nods towards an empty chair.
Sonya shifts uneasily as Aldern navigates the conversation back to himself and the potential of getting Sonya to go hunting. "Ah, yes, perhaps we'll have time. Busy day I'm sure, getting Sandpoint back in order."
---
Sonya waits a moment to see if the others are willing to stay and help before offering - "Of course, Father Zantus, what can we do to help?"
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The samsaran watches as the nobleman leaves to his room, and then Zantus approaches the table. I wonder how many callers this group of capable people will receive today.
"Ah!... yes, what help do you seek? Perhaps you've lost something amid the skirmish? Or something needs rebuilding?" He stops and thinks for a second. "Perhaps not rebuilding, I'm not the greatest engineer or carpenter."
Throwing little wry glances here and there over at Aldern Foxglove's attempt to display gratitude, Ameiko listens to Seraka then smiles a little, and carefully reaches up to pat the big woman's muscular shoulder. "I'm sure it... will all come together! Perhaps you should ask Savah to share a drink here sometime?"
Seraka grins, and for a moment, she looks like a playful young orc, just caught playing in the armory.
"Yeah...good idea. I appreciate the advice."[/b[
She hoists herself off of her barstool and stretches, cracking her neck to release the built-up tightness.
[b]"Heh, maybe then...you could be my second friend?"
She holds out her hand for a shake. She glances about again before leaning in and lowering her voice.
"Don't you dare tell anyone what we talked about. I kinda got an image to keep going, ya know?"
Seraka saunters over to the others just as Father Zantus makes his entrance. She grins a big toothy grin as she slaps E on the shoulder.
"Bunch a muscle like us? Probably need us to go skewer some more goblins, not build something."
Ameiko smiles encouragingly at Seraka. "Would I only be your second? Are you not friends with those others at the table?" she asks, then chuckles a little and wipes at the counter. "Of course I'll keep it in confidence. You're hardly the first person to tell the bartender something personal. Though usually people are more drunk."
***
Zantus offers a rueful smile at E's words, and spreads his hands a little.
"No, nothing like engineering. I was just... putting things in order, checking for any damage on the cathedral grounds and the like, and, well-- there's a crypt in the cemetery that looks to have been opened. I don't know if some of those damned goblins got inside or what, but I know it wasn't like that yesterday. And if there are any goblins still inside, I'd prefer I wasn't poking my head in there on my own. I asked Belor if he could spare a guard or two, but the guard is stretched rather thin right now checking other buildings in town. He suggested you mightn't mind lending a hand?"
Rokan can't help but shake his head and grin at Seraka's present-as-ever swagger as she sits down. But at the priest's proposition, he sobers, then looks over to E.
"I guess I'm glad I didn't take that shower. Digging goblins out of a graveyard doesn't sound like the cleanest work."
He stands up tiredly, grabbing his bow and pack. "A few of us are still bleeding from those earlier fights. Do you have any healing powers left for us?"
"Excellent then! Thank you so much. Probably it's nothing," Zantus says with rather firm optimism, like he is trying to convince himself...
The sun has sunk low and paints the town of Sandpoint with the long, rosy hues of late afternoon as the little band emerges from the Rusty Dragon and follows Father Zantus through the streets, from the inn towards the cathedral. The building cast long shadows through the streets and the sunlit walls are painted with a warm red glow, normally a pleasant sight but perhaps somewhat macabre after the morning's events.
Past the bulk of the new cathedral there is a sprawling graveyard, and a man standing at the edge of it with a watchful look and coarse workman's clothes. He turns at your approach-- revealing a rather deformed face with a severe harelip-- and bobs a bow to Zantus.
"Any trouble, Naffer?" Zantus asks the fellow.
"Naw, Father - it's been quiet as, well, a crypt. I been watchin'! No gobbers goin' in or out."
"Good man," Zantus says with a pat to the man's shoulder. "I brought help, so we'll just see what's there."
He leads through the crypt, past gravestones and markers of both poor and rich-- and ultimately toward a standing crypt, gesturing towards it. The building is perhaps 20 by 20 feet, of well-worked stone, and the door can just be seen hanging ajar, revealing darkness inside.
"Well-- here it is. Should we just go in? --and I am sorry, but I have supplicated Desna to my utmost today already-- you were not the only wounded, alas."
Rokan stops the group at the entrance of the graveyard, nodding a greeting to the local watchman. He gives both Father Zanthus and the man a questioning look. ”How many people have been in and out of here since the fighting?”
As he waits for an answer, he begins casting about on the ground for tracks. Specifically, any that might match the mysterious boot print he saw outside the walls. He keeps his eyes on the ground all the way to the crypt.
At the crypt, once he's done wth his search for tracks, he looks up. "So, who was laid to rest here?"